


There for you

by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden)



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sickfic, Sickness, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kat_Of_Dresden/pseuds/ClaraCivry
Summary: Three times Jaskier was sick and/or hurt in Geralt's point of view.Feelings, friendship, angry Geralt protecting his DandelionPointless feelings and sickfic
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 15
Kudos: 586





	There for you

"Hmmm" Geralt said, looking at his friend with undeniable concern. 

"hmmmm" he repeated, not knowing what to do, lost for words.

The situation was this: Jaskier had been poisoned with the venom of a Galligolla had was now now burning up in fever, wracked by full body shivers, unaware of his surroundings. Surroundings that weren't the best to look after a gravely ill man, not at all.

They were in the middle of nowhere, on a clearing next to a small lake, hours from the next village. The villagers that had hired him to deal with the monster had told him as much: they wanted the beast gone for fear for their crops, but there really wasn't anything there for miles.

Geralt sighed. He could really take Jaskier and tie him to his back, get on Roach and just gallop until they found some semblance of civilization, but he feared it would do more harm than good. What Jaskier needed now was rest, and calm and care.

Geralt sighed again. He... He wasn't good at these things. He was supposed to be an emotionless killing machine, a tool for magic, a.... friend of humanity (damn that stupid song was catchy! Toss a coin...). But in all the process for becoming what and who he was, he hadn't often had any preparation to deal with ill friends. Or friends on general. And yet....

"Here we are."

Jaskier's cheeks were red and too hot. Geralt had brought a piece of cloth damped in lake water to try and cool his face and neck, and cleaned and rubbed some herbs on his wound. Now they could only wait, there was nothing else left to do. The venom wasn't fatal, the witcher knew, but it would take a while for a Jaskier to get better. 

"Hmmmm."

He was always getting in trouble, that bard. He got hurt, kidnapped, made the wrong people angry (including Geralt, more often than not), got his nose where it didn't belong, made too much noise... Really, the opposite of what a witcher would want by their side. And yet.... 

Geralt always looked for him, always sought his company, even after pushing him away himself. Yeah, Jaskier was annoying and troublesome and spoke way too much, but Geralt's life was much more fun and bright when he had the bard by his side. 

Jaskier had made him be less hated by townsfolk, even admired with his songs, which had got him more work and improved his livelihood. He had stood by him even after being slighted, and treated generally in not too good a way. He had kept Geralt company, and after so long so terribly alone, Geralt was more grateful than he was able to show. The least he could do was tend to him as he was sick. 

He sat next to the sick man, put his broad hand on the shorter man's forehead and noted with dismay that he was still burning up. Geralt tried to think of more remedies... But nothing. 

"I guess we'll just have to wait it out." he said, a slight tinge of defeat in his tone. 

It was weird, that Jaskier was there and it was silent, that he was the one talking, that only Geralt's voice could be heard. Unnatural. 

A wave of dread washed over Geralt, as he thought of all the things that could go wrong. What if Jaskier was in too weakened a condition to recover, what if this specific breed of monster needed an additional treatment? He was no healer! And the thought of losing Jaskier hurt a bit too much. 

Geralt sighed, again, wishing that he knew more, wishing that he was warmer and more affectionate... Wishing, even though he would never admit it (not even to himself) that he could be a better friend. 

A blue eye opened, and after some indecorous moaning, a small voice asked:

"Tell... me... a story."

Geralt nodded, nearly smiled. 

That he could do. 

*

The people from the bar were surprised by the witcher who had been there the previous day storming in again, anger in his odd golden eyes, making everyone there go silent. He looked at everyone, then went back out. 

And immediately came back in, helping the bard that had been with him. The young man was looking rather pale and faintly blue under the eyes and around the mouth, and was holding a wooden bucket where he threw up every now and then. After making sure Jaskier was as comfortable as possible, Geralt faced the people again with renewed anger. 

"WHO WAS IT?" he bellowed, making more than one person take a step back. "ONE OF YOU POISONED MY FRIEND - I WANT THE NAME NOW."

The people on the town were paralyzed by fear. The witcher looked scary enough on a good day, and now that he was that angry and unleashed... Jeez. They cursed whoever it had been inwardly. Several times. Colorfully. 

Nobody was speaking, and Geralt got even more worked up. One of these no good farmers had poisoned Jaskier and were chatting as if nothing happened, while poor Jaskier was vomiting his innards with great pain. Every sound of retching made Geralt more furious. This could not and would not stand. 

Since no one was stepping up, he took one of the serving boys and pinned him against a wall, one of his big hands on the boy's chest. 

"What do you know?" 

"Nothing!" 

"It was you who served us, wasn't it? If you don't know anything then I'll assume it's you."

The boy's eyes widened and nearly popped out of his skull. 

"aaaah... No!! No, no!! I was given the jug by him!" he said, frantically pointing at the barkeep. 

Geralt let him go and moved towards the guilty party with almost supernatural speed while the barkeep shook his head strongly. 

"He paid me to pour something on the drink!" he said, pointing to a knight. "I have children, I need the coin!" 

Geralt angrily huffed his way and went to the knight, who was already trying to escape. But before he could even leave there was a punch on his jaw and he fell to the floor. 

"WHY?" 

"It was supposed to be you who got sick! Mutants are an aberration to the natural world! I was doing my duty to the world...."

Another punch. This time it probably broke the man's nose. The knight thought better than to keep talking.

"How do I fix it??" 

The knight doubted for a bit, thinking about his honour and duty... but the fire in Geralt's eyes made him cave

"Ask the healer for elflendslaw. He should be better in a day."

Geralt took Jaskier again, threw one last angry look at the people and left. As he walked erratically, going from one place to another, the bard smiled. 

"I liked how you defended my honor."

Geralt just huffed as he continued their way to the healer. He had already spoken enough.

"You were so angry on my behalf, I appreciate that, really... Really do."

"Why don't you make yourself useful." Geralt cut."and write a song about how it's a bad idea to mess with a witcher's bard. 

Jaskier smiled. 

Then hurled again. 

*

The battle had been long and hard. Mages and knights had been defeated, soldiers died, and Geralt himself had been wounded on the chest. He was injured, and yet, the thought of resting never came to mind. He had been there, by his side as usual, and now he was nowhere to be seen. 

"Jaskier..."

The battle had been brutal, and the bard shouldn't have been there. He was getting better at self defense, but he was still a regular man who made a living writing and singing songs. Not skills very useful to avoid injury. 

And Geralt was worried because, fuck, anything might have happened to him, and after all this horror, all this bloodshed and pain, the notion of having to go on without him, the notion that he could be gone because he'd stayed with him... Not fair. Not acceptable. 

He looked and looked and looked. So much desolation, so much blood, so many lives lost. "This would make for a great song" Geralt suddenly thought, and wondered who would sing it. Wondered who could sing, tell the story. Wondered if the world would go back to hating him and fearing him if his greatest defender was gone. 

He couldn't be gone. Couldn't. It would hurt too much. Jaskier still had his whole life ahead of him, and most of what he'd already lived had been filled with abuse, insult, heartbreak. That wasn't fair for him, wasn't fair Geralt, for the entire world. This bard still had a lot to give - his story couldn't end so soon. 

After some increasingly desperate hours of searching, Geralt finally found a familiar brunet head. He immediately knelt... Jaskier still had a pulse, but it was weak and irregular.. He was covered in char and blood. There was dried blood on his temple, on his side.. Too much blood. 

Geralt took the unconscious man in his arms, and walked solemnly. What good was victory when you lost everyone you loved? Why would destiny be so cruel to someone whose biggest crime was simply to speak too much, to want to be there, to want to know and witness the heroics and magics that made the world. 

Jaskier bounced limply as Geralt carried him, bridal style, towards the nearest tent, the next place we're people were alive. That was right, alive. There was no need to lose hope. He could still live. 

They could still live and go on living adventures. Maybe go to the coast - yes, there was still time. 

"It will be all right, you'll see. You'll be singing about this in no time."

After a good couple hours of walking he found makeshift infirmary with people in stretchers being looked after. Geralt remained by Jaskier's side for two days and nights, barely able to sleep, a song stuck in his head. 

When Jaskier finally woke up, it was to the unique eyes of his "very best friend in the world" looking intently

"What... what did I do now?" 

"You lived, Jaskier. You lived to tell the tale. And that is the only thing that matters."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you liked!
> 
> You know you want to comment!


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